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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29518512">Run Away</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepocketdragon/pseuds/thepocketdragon'>thepocketdragon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sing to me Instead [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Pitch Perfect (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, One Shot, Songfic, bechloe - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 16:34:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,864</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29518512</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepocketdragon/pseuds/thepocketdragon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Chloe just can’t seem to get her head around the idea that Beca continues to choose her. Beca doesn’t understand why Chloe keeps expecting her to run when she’s the only reason she’s got to stay.</p>
<p>Set across PP1-PP3 and beyond.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chloe Beale &amp; Beca Mitchell, Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sing to me Instead [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2021515</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>72</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Run Away</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is the final one shot of this series (lol, ‘one shot’ like it isn’t spilt into 7 sections!). Thank you to all of you who have read and commented; this has been something I have wanted to do for such a long time and I feel so relieved that the hard work appears to have paid off. </p>
<p>This story is a ‘Last Five Years’ style look at a series of moments in the lives of Beca and Chloe. Chloe’s story is set in the present, Beca’s in the past. (I have slightly cheated with the model of this as both sets of stories move forward in time.)</p>
<p>As always, this story is based on the song of the same name on Ben Platt’s ‘Sing to me Instead’ album.</p>
<p>I hope you find that it’s a fitting way to bring this little project of mine to a close. </p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Monday</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do I scare you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe Beale can remember the moment she first wondered whether there was something about her that Beca was frightened of. Maybe frightened was too strong a word, but she had accosted her in the shower, forced her into singing a duet and then- only days later- inducted her into the closest thing to a cult you could possibly find operating legally on a university campus. Beca had to have been uncomfortable at the very least.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When she had first asked her- admittedly, she had been drunk at their hood night party- Beca had simply shrugged and said “well, I’m here, aren’t I?”.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It wasn’t an answer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It certainly didn’t give Chloe any kind of closure.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It didn’t give her any indication as to why this girl, surly and dark and completely different to anyone who had ever before worn the Barden Bellas scarf, had made the incomprehensible choice to subject herself to a year of close harmonies and Ace of Base.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe had worked on the assumption that she scared Beca, that it was the only solid reason why she stuck around and continued to give her time to the Bellas despite being the most talented person in possibly the whole of the state. She had worked on that assumption, keeping it in the back of her mind because, to Chloe, it explained everything. It explained why Beca had auditioned. It explained why she turned up to practice on time. It explained why she nodded along the first time she was invited to movie night and why she turned up on the doorstep with a grocery bag full of snacks every Thursday evening after that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It certainly explained the deer-in-the-headlights look she would get in her eye when Chloe caught her reflection in the mirror during rehearsal.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe had asked Beca the question more than once. Her answers had changed with time.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At first, she had scoffed and said something dismissive. Later, she had laughed and said “of course not, weirdo.” After that, her answer had turned to “you’re scaring me with these questions. Come on, tell me which peanut butter Ashley wanted us to pick up. This store closes at 8.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was only when, years after the first time she had asked, Beca had nervously laughed, tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and looked into her eyes as she whispered, “dude, you fucking <em>terrify </em>me” that Chloe had been satisfied she had the real answer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Still, even as their lips were inches apart and the pressure between them felt palpable, Chloe had pulled back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She had pulled away and opened her eyes and given Beca the chance to leave.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>To run.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Bec, I never meant to scare you. I… I’m sorry. I…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Beca had simply shaken her head, leaned in and closed the gap.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You terrify me because I love you. Idiot.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Suddenly, in Chloe’s mind, every moment they had shared in which Beca had chosen her made sense.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I love you too.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe had never felt so reassured.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe has always felt everything in absolutes. Joy and sadness. Despair and elation. Hunger and satisfaction. Love and hate. She exists in a binary world, one in which her emotions are like switches, flipping from one side to the other, in the blink of an eye.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The switch flips across from ‘confident’ to ‘insecure’ more often than she would care to admit.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It switches every single time she sees Beca make a TV appearance or win an award. It switches when she happens to see comments about her girlfriend’s looks or her talent in magazine articles. It switches because, in those moments, Chloe cannot understand why Beca is still by her side.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It doesn’t make any sense.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Not when managing a blossoming music career means travelling all over the world and yet Beca flies back to their home every weekend.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Not when invitations to events arrive in the mail and Beca turns them down to spend an evening on the couch because Chloe has a tough week ahead at work.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Not when, with her immense talent and her beauty and the way she can charm an audience of strangers with her sarcastic tone, Beca Mitchell could have anyone she wanted and yet she spends her days, and nights, with Chloe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe who lectures for sixteen hours a week on the Veterinary Science course at UCLA.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe who likes Taylor Swift without even a sniff of irony and who still doesn’t fully understand exactly what ‘dubstep’ even means.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe who, suddenly, is doubting everything she has ever known because it no longer feels like enough. There’s a guilt that grows within her when she realises that she shouldn’t feel anything less than satisfied with her life. She has a girlfriend who she adores, a career she is good at, a healthy bank account and a working liver. It’s more than a lot of people have. It’s more than she ever thought she would have. Maybe more than she thinks she should have.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Wanting more feels like greed. Before, she had shamelessly gone after things in life; she had taken and claimed and held onto things- people- without a second thought. She had seen something in Beca back in college, something the world is slowly beginning to understand, and she had grasped onto her and held until she stopped fighting and succumbed. Now, she’s thinking of reaching out and holding out her hand to ask for something else.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She can’t help but worry that Beca will break free and run away.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She can’t help but worry that, when confronted with the truth of how different they have grown to be, Beca will simply leave.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She can’t help but worry because the switch in her head has turned from ‘satisfied’ to ‘hungry’ and this type of hunger- the deep yearning her entire body is suddenly feeling for something so specific- should feel like a new beginning.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It doesn’t.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It feels strangely like the end.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Tuesday</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They met at school, that’s how it goes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That’s the version Beca will go for, simple and light, when people ask in the future how she and this perky redhead first got to know one another. It’s silly, she realises, to be jumping ahead quite so far in time when she’s been at Barden University for barely a month, but her experience thus far tells her that the girl standing opposite her, wiggling her hips and talking about ‘jiggle juice’ isn’t going anywhere. It’s only been a month, but from wielding a clip board and asking her about acapella singing, this ridiculously chipper, auburn-haired senior has (through a series of questionably nefarious incidents) managed to see her naked, sing a duet with her and, now, appears to have inducted her into some kind of cult.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Without Chloe, Beca realises, the beginning of her college experience would have been a whole lot less exciting.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> W</span>ithout Chloe, Beca wouldn’t be at an honest-to-god college party instead of in bed, in silence, ignoring her roommate.Without Chloe, she’s fairly certain she would already have gone back on her promise to her dad and would be curating the perfect way to escape Georgia and get herself to LA.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Now, ‘paying her dues’ looks like it’s going to involve a whole host more synchronised finger-clicking than she had anticipated.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Beca isn’t that mad about it. She can do a year of college, a year of nerd singing in her spare time. It surprises her, the way in which she seems to be able to just <em>accept</em> that this is her life now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She can’t help but think that the smiling redhead with the crazy blue eyes has a lot to do with it.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“I didn’t expect you to show up, you know.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe finds Beca again mid-way through the party. Everyone is a pleasant level of buzzed and the music has been half-decent. While she’s spent most of the evening on the sidelines, Beca feels comfortable with these people.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She feels comfortable with Chloe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Really?” Chloe’s statement takes her by surprise. She would have thought, given the level of blind confidence that the girl has about everything else, that she would have had the same kind of trust in her own words. When Chloe shrugs, Beca can’t help but give a reassuring smile.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I guess I thought that, maybe, you’d think about it and you’d remember how Aubrey spoke to you and you’d change your mind.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Nope. Your recruitment tactics in the shower did their job.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>For the first time, when Beca looks up at Chloe, she sees a flash of insecurity. It reminds her of the look the redhead had on her face when Aubrey, the blonde with the attitude, had snapped at her in the quad. Maybe it’s because her eyes are so big and so blue and so soulful, but Beca finds herself fighting the urge to reach out and touch her arm or pat her reassuringly. She doesn’t normally do personal space with anyone, and the way in which she is drawn to Chloe is strange and unfamiliar on so many levels that it takes a moment for her to catch her breath.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I didn’t mean to… It’s just…” Chloe pauses and shakes her hands by her side. “Sometimes I just go on instinct, you know. I heard this voice and I’d seen you walk in and I <em>knew</em> it was you. I had to see it. I had to… sorry.” Her apology is sincere. Too sincere for the backdrop of late-2000s pop music the party playlist is made up of.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Beca smiles, hoping it looks at least slightly reassuring. “It’s cool. I mean, showing your tits to someone in your freshman year is basically a college requirement.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe, surprisingly compos mentis for someone who has been drinking since 5pm, nods stoically. “It’s true. They don’t actually let you graduate without doing that. So, well, therefore it’s probably a good thing that you got it out the way so soon. You’re welcome.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thanks.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The distance between them is diminishing fast. Beca hadn’t realised just how <em>near</em> Chloe’s face had ended up during their conversation. It’s instinct to take a step back. To give herself room to breathe. Chloe’s brow furrows as she notices the gap and Beca feels the sudden need to apologise even though she isn’t sure what she’d be apologising for.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“When…” Chloe brushes her hair back off her face, “in the shower, did I scare you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No. You surprised me, that’s all.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You let me stay. You sang with me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Beca smiles. “I did.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe leans back in and, to stop her from falling, Beca leans close enough that she can rest her head on her shoulder. She hopes Chloe can’t hear just how much her pulse is racing. <br/><br/>“And what about now? Do I scare you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Beca shakes her head. “I’m here, aren’t I?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It seems to be enough for Chloe, who pushes herself back up and tries to stabilise her unsteady feet. “True. Okay, well I’m going to go and talk to all the other new Bellas.” Chloe points a finger in Beca’s vague direction. “I’ll see you at rehearsal. 8pm Monday. Don’t be late.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>As she walks back to her dorm, Beca can’t help the way her mind replays the evening. Her memory hones in on blue eyes and red hair.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe has already pushed through so many of her boundaries. She’s seen her naked, for one. She’s heard her sing. She even managed to get her to do the stupid cup thing on stage in front of an auditorium of strangers.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It surprises her when she thinks about the idea that Chloe hadn’t expected her to show up. It surprises her because Beca had never really considered that there was another option. Of course, she waited until last and she was late on purpose just because she’s never been one to do things by the book, but she was always going to go.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She was never going to let Chloe down.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe, who she has only just met yet who she can’t bear to upset. Chloe who seems to see something special in her. It intrigues her, Beca realises. She’s drawn in. Even though that Aubrey girl seems mean and the other Bella recruits clearly have their own stuff going on and Fat Amy seems overwhelming and she’s certain she’s going to end up in trouble, Beca is a Bella.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She’s a Bella because Chloe asked her to be.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She’s a Bella because saying ‘no’ wasn’t an option. She isn’t running away. Not from this. Not when there’s an urge, an unanswered question that she’s too curious to ignore.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She’s a Bella because there’s something about Chloe that pulls her in. Something she can’t quite name just yet.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her question repeats in her head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>“Do I scare you?”</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Beca thinks it would be easier if she did.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At least then running away from this entirely terrifying and new situation would be an option.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As it stands, she’s not going anywhere.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Not when she finally has a reason to stay.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <b>Wednesday</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There’s an insecurity in Chloe’s face the moment she sees Aubrey's face appear on her phone screen. It doesn’t take long for the feeling to bleed into their conversation, her never-ending question, her expectation that Beca’s life will drag her so far forward that she won’t be able to turn back, colouring the way she answers her best friend’s gentle questions.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How are you?” It’s all Aubrey needs to ask before Chloe is reeling off every half-buried worry she holds about how on earth she balances the scales against her increasingly famous girlfriend.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You really need to stop doubting yourself. Me and Beca… we may have had our differences, but she’s a good person, Chlo. And most importantly of all, that girl loves you. That won’t change.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aubrey’s words aren’t quite as soothing as Chloe needs them to be. She needs a definite answer, something to quash the whirling anxiety that swells in her stomach before she says- out loud- the words that she knows will change everything, for better or for worse. Aubrey has been her go-to woman for any kind of existential crisis since her freshman year. Being a mature, grown-up woman with a job and a house and a girlfriend changes none of that. Aubrey is her person.</p>
<p><br/>Except, right now, she doesn’t get it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She doesn’t get why Aubrey is so certain that Beca won’t turn and run. Especially when what she’s proposing is monumental enough to shake the bedrocks of their life.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Chloe, I know Beca has always had this air about her, this kind of threatening, on-the-edge, rebellious thing, but she’s not tough. She doesn’t do isolation, she doesn’t do autonomy. She does dependence. She does cuddles on the couch and whining for help when she’s sick. She does <em>you</em>.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe can’t help but smirk. “She does, but I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aubrey’s growl comes with a side of fresh eye-roll. Chloe just shrugs. Aubrey should be used to this by now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Chloe, listen to me.” Aubrey’s eyes bore as harshly as they can through the screen. “Beca has consistently chosen you. She… she was going to <em>leave</em> at the end of her freshman year, but she came back. Why? Because of you.” Chloe remembers it differently, remembers an annoying, in-her-way Treblemaker blocking out the light and leaving her standing in a long shadow for the better part of four years, but she chooses to ignore it for now. “Even at the retreat, after she’d been called out and humiliated, she came back. For you. And then we all sat and watched as you made sweet, sweet music together. I mean, it wasn’t as obvious then <em>why</em> she came back. But it still boils down to the same thing. Beca loves you, Chlo. She’s not going anywhere.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, but that time she didn’t have much choice. You can’t exactly run from a bear trap.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Bear trap or no bear trap, Beca wouldn’t have actually gone. She has always loved you far too much to leave you behind.” Aubrey licks her lips and smiles gently as Chloe takes in what she says. Slowly, she takes a breath and begins to speak once more. Chloe lets the words sink into her skin as she listens. “You have always chosen one another and you always will. That’s how I know, Chloe. That’s how I know everything will be alright. You and Beca? You’re going to face so much together, good and bad and the storm might rock the boat at times, but she’s not going to jump ship. Not when she has someone worth holding on for.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But…” Chloe’s head is full of doubt. <em>What if I’m not holding her steady? What if I’m holding her back? </em>She wants to ask, but she doesn’t. Instead, she sighs and says “are you sure?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Chlo, what… whatever’s going on with you, you have to know that Beca loves you. At the end of the day, when you peel back everything else, that’s what matters. Now stop overthinking about whatever it is and just <em>talk </em>to the woman. Please.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe hasn’t exactly <em>told </em>Aubrey where her head is at, but she knows how the idea of change can fill her with doubt. Even good change leaves her insecure.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s always been her problem. A problem that has left her waiting far too long to do things that turned out to be a good idea. Like graduating college or moving cities or, you know, confessing her attraction to her hot best friend. Her best friend who she had agreed to ‘platonically’ share a bed with when they moved into their first apartment. Chloe had wasted years pushing her feelings down as far as she could to protect a friendship that didn’t ever really need protecting at all.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aubrey has never been a risk taker, either. That’s the thing that Chloe can’t get her head around. It’s part of what always made her such a safe and steady friend. Aubrey trusts the process, trusts what she knows and keeps to a formula. She likes predictability and familiarity, just like Chloe does. The difference is, Aubrey doesn’t worry that her life is boring. She doesn’t worry about upsetting the apple cart or going after what she truly wants. She just… takes the time to weigh up the risks before she makes a choice.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When it comes to the things that matter- choices that affect not just Chloe but the people she cares the most about- Chloe takes time to weigh up the risks, panics, and then does nothing. She sits on the fence until her butt goes numb. Left to her own devices, she would stay there forever. It is other people who force her, push her, onto one side or the other. So far, her cautious stagnation been balanced out by the people she surrounds herself with. Radical risk-takers like Amy who never really say ‘no’, surreptitious meddlers like Lilly who could make ’the thing’ happen before anyone even has time to weigh up the pros and cons, and people like Beca. Beca whose life is so far removed, so much more fast-paced and exciting than either of them had ever envisioned or prepared for. Beca who pulls Chloe along, out of her comfort zone, because it’s the only way to have her close.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Not for the first time, Chloe wonders just how different Beca’s version of the future is to her own.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Not for the first time, she pictures a frantically-packed case being pulled through the door.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Not for the first time, the idea makes her feel sick.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe wonders whether Aubrey has any more bear traps at her disposal.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Just in case.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <b>Thursday</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Well, there’s no running away now.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Beca’s first coherent thought doesn’t come until after she’s been released from the bear trap. While she had been dangling several feet above the ground, her mind had only conjured images. Images of falling and hurting and regret and, most of all, images of Chloe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe who she had hurt with her words and with her lack of them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe who looked smug until she noticed how scared Beca was.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe who matters more than any of this. More than some stupid retreat. More than the Bellas. More than Worlds. More than her internship.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Now, sat on the ground surrounded by knotted rope and dead leaves, Beca knows she’s at an impasse. She has a choice to make. A choice to follow through with her threats to leave or turn around and have the painful conversations about why she hid in the first place.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Looking up, into the hurt eyes of her best friend, Beca knows she doesn’t really have a choice at all. Not when one of the options is to stay with Chloe and the other is to let her go.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Beca can’t help but wonder just how long Chloe has been the most important person in her life. She figures it probably started just after their first nationals win. After she saw just how much Chloe believed in her. After she let herself feel happy and proud for achieving something. For caring about something. After she made the silent decision, in her own mind, to stay at Barden and get her degree.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She put aside LA for Chloe Beale in that moment. Sure, Beca did it for herself too, but without Chloe she would never have made that choice. Without Chloe, it wouldn’t have been worth it. Even with Jesse, with the way she had excitedly launched herself off the stage and into his arms, Beca knows that it was Chloe who was at the forefront of her mind when she found her dad in the lobby of Lincoln Center and told him she wouldn’t be going to LA after all.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It doesn’t shock Beca, when she looks back, that it was from that moment that she felt stable- held, safe- for the first time in her adult life.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe has always had a way of reminding her what matters.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Right now, Beca just wishes it hadn’t resulted in a grazed knee and what she’s sure is an epic bruise developing at the top of her ass.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She definitely couldn’t run now, even if she wanted to.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Luckily, she doesn’t.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She doesn’t think she ever did.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Not really.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>By the time the net of rope has been pulled away,the rest of the Bellas are conspicuously absent. Beca is certain, from the way Aubrey softens her sharp glare as she meets her gaze, that the blonde-haired dictator has something to do with it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Still, she isn’t complaining.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She can’t. Not when Chloe is reaching for her hand to pull her up, despite the angry look in her eyes, and Beca catches a gentle nod from Aubrey towards a clearing in the trees. Not when Chloe begins to lead her there, to somewhere more private. Somewhere they can talk.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Just… before we go any further,” Beca halts her footsteps as she follows Chloe across the grass, “there aren’t any more bear traps down here, are there?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe’s shrug does little to calm her. “Maybe you should just follow me for once. Trust <em>my</em> instincts.” It’s cutting, the way she speaks. It’s completely at odds with Chloe’s usual light, carefree tone and it jolts something inside of Beca. It’s a gear shift she hadn’t expected and it <em>hurts.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Chlo, I…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There’s a harshness to the way Chloe glares at her. It’s pointed and angry but it doesn’t quite cover the sadness. It’s the sadness that Beca feels the most. She adds ‘making Chloe Beale happy’ to the mental list of things she is no longer as good at as she had first thought. It sits alongside ‘producing music’ and ‘managing emotions’. .</p>
<p> </p>
<p>‘Communicating’ has never been on the list.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Beca has never been good at that one.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Maybe, she realises, now would be a good time to try it out.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m sorry.” It’s amazing how different the words sound coming out of Beca’s mouth when she <em>means</em> them. “I… I honestly don’t know why I kept this from you. I never meant it to hurt you. I… Man, I mean, hurting you is like kicking a puppy or something. You… you just… you’re breaking my heart looking at me like that.” It’s something about the blue of her eyes, she thinks. Or maybe it’s the guilt of knowing it’s her fault that she’s upset in the first place.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What… what happens now?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe’s question is so innocent, so gentle, that Beca has to take a moment to swallow back the lump that forms in her throat. Instead, she decides that her first step is to make Chloe smile. She knows exactly how to do it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You mean, do I stay or do I go now?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s enough. Beca knows Chloe can’t help the way her lips tilt upwards at the corner, the way her eyes crease and sparkle.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You, Beca Mitchell, are such a dork.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Beca nods knowingly, relieved that the tension is broken. “I’m an idiot. I… I’m sorry, Chlo. For making you think I’d actually leave this, you, the Bellas.” She can’t quite make eye contact when she’s being sincere. Beca settles for plucking a leaf from a low-hanging branch and rolling it between her fingers. “I just… slammed the panic button like I always do when I’m overwhelmed. You know how it goes; threaten to leave, something dramatic happens to pull me back in, a little damage control and life resumes as normal.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How far do you think you’d have got if it hadn’t been for the net?”</p>
<p><br/>It’s not a serious question. Beca knows they’re both trying hard to keep the mood light, to fix this one thing so that they can move on and fix everything else. She looks over to the camp ground where Aubrey has the girls arranging seats in a circle. “I think Lilly was already in the tree if I’m completely honest with you. And, ah, even if she hadn’t been, I’m fairly certain Amy would have body-checked me before I could make it even another ten feet.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe is quiet for a moment. Beca watches as she leans back against the trunk of a tree, looking up at the blue sky, painted with soft swipes of watercolour coral which signal the arrival of the sunset. It feels, for a moment, as if the fading light means something; as if it signals the end. Of what, Beca isn’t entirely sure.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Whatever it is, it feels like change is inevitable.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Bec,” Chloe’s voice is quiet. It’s calmer, now. Gentler. “Bec, please don’t ever do that again. I… I know things are hard and I know we’ve all been a bit crazy and a bit messed up but the idea of you leaving me, us, it… I don’t know how many times I can convince you to come back. There isn’t always going to be a bear trap or a Lilly or an Amy with her wrestling moves. Sometimes, it’s just going to be you and me.” Beca can’t help the way her heart swells at Chloe’s words. At the certainty with which she speaks about the future. About them. “Things might get hard and they might get complicated and we’ll get angry and upset and we’ll shout and we’ll cry but, Bec, the idea of you walking out of the door and leaving me behind is terrifying.” The tears are back in Chloe’s eyes, glistening in the slowly dimming light. “You have to stop threatening to leave me.” A hand reaches out for hers. Beca takes it, holding it firm. “Please.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It takes Beca a moment to truly hear what Chloe is saying. It hurts to realise that she is now the one who leaves, or who threatens to leave. It hurts the most because it was someone shutting the door on her, someone walking away, that shaped her entire childhood. It hurts because Beca had always told herself that she would never follow in her father’s footsteps, that she would never, ever make another person feel the way she did.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But she has.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And worst of all, the person at the centre of it all is the one she loves the most.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She thinks of her dad and wonders if that’s always how it goes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Chlo, I… I know I can be dumb sometimes and I don’t always read situations well. I know I fly off the handle and that I react before I think, but” she finds the strength to look into Chloe’s eyes, “I’m not going anywhere. I won’t run. Not from this. Not from you. Not anymore.” She squeezes Chloe’s hand. “I promise.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe seems to pause. She looks out at the sky before taking a deep breath and asking the same question she posed only minutes before.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What happens now?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The answer is obvious. “We go back to the girls and we find our sound. Together.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe leans into Beca’s side, resting her head on her shoulder as they watch the sun slowly sink beneath the line of trees on the horizon. It’s quiet. All the words, the apologies and confessions and promises, simply hang in the air, disappearing into darkness as the night begins to claim the sky. There is nothing more to be said, now. Beca wonders if, maybe, a sunset isn’t a sign of the end, but a symbol for a new beginning. The promise of a new dawn.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>All she knows, right now, is that she wants to spend as much time as possible like this; watching the sun set with Chloe Beale by her side.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She can’t think of anything better.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <b>Friday</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Beca made a promise to Chloe that, wherever in the world she was, she would always come back to her. It had been one of the first discussions they had needed to have as the dust settled around their new relationship, their new honesty. Beca was moving up in the world and Chloe was finding her own path and, somehow, they had to find a way to make it work. It makes Chloe smile that, even now, after all these years, Beca still makes sure she is home by 8pm on a Friday night. She still refuses to be out of the city on a weekend unless Chloe travels with her. She still finds little ways to make good on a promise she made long ago.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s that fact that Chloe is reminding herself of when, at 7:55 in the evening, the front door is pushed open. Beca, in her usual way, shrugs off her jacket and opens the door of the coat closet. Their coats are all bunched together since they always share. Beca hangs up her jacket and unzips her long boots, pulling them off and leaving them in the vague vicinity of the shoe rack.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Chlo?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Kitchen.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe has dinner on the table. It isn’t a particularly special evening, just a Friday night, but she sees Beca’s eyes widen when she walks in and notices the lit candles and the good plates and the chilled bottle of her favourite Cortese di Gavi. Beca strides closer to her and, without a word, pulls Chloe into a firm and meaningful kiss. It takes all of Chloe’s strength not to deepen it, not to let herself release the deep breath and the tension in her shoulders and succumb to Beca’s touch. She knows why she wants to; aside from the obvious reason.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She’s nervous.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Beca, she realises, can tell something is off.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What’s this for?” It’s in the way she looks Chloe up and down as she speaks, stormy blue eyes narrowing ever so slightly as her gaze reaches her face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I love you.” It’s cheap and Chloe knows it. She knows Beca knows it too. “And I wanted to do something nice for you because, well, you’re… you’re the love of my life.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Aw, Chloe.” Beca softens and, for a moment, Chloe relaxes at her easy win. “You didn’t need to go to all of this effort to say that. I mean, I know you love me.” She sits herself down at the table. “But this is amazing. Thank you.” She blinks before looking at Chloe with more sincerity than is normal for a lazy Friday night at home. “I love you so much.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The table is littered with dishes half-filled with Beca’s favourite foods: butternut squash with walnuts and gorgonzola, crispy gnocchi with sage butter sauce, broccolini and green beans. Chloe has always been able to work her way around a kitchen, but even she has to admit she is proud of herself for recreating menu items from the rooftop restaurant they go to for celebrations in her own home.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>So, it seems, is Beca.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I feel like you’re building up to something.” There’s a flash of doubt across Beca’s face. Chloe catches it. It’s sweet, she thinks, that she can tell from one look what is going through Beca’s mind. That she can tell she’s worrying that she has ruined the moment by addressing the badly-hidden elephant in the room. “Chlo?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I just…” Chloe is already regretting having eaten so much. Her stomach begins to churn. “It’s…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Baby?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It takes a moment to decide whether this is the right moment. Chloe slowly lifts her gaze and nods. “Exactly.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You…” Beca’s fork clatters down onto her plate. “Sorry, sweetie. I don’t think I’m following.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe reaches out for her wine glass and takes a large gulp, feeling the liquid’s dry burn hit the back of her throat. “What… okay, don’t freak out.” It isn’t the way to start the conversation, Chloe knows, but her anxiety is in the driver’s seat now and she’s quickly losing her filter.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ll try not to. Just tell me what’s going on before you explode.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s just… I’ve been thinking a lot about our life and, Bec, you have to know how grateful I am for everything that has happened. I mean, moving out here and you getting your job at the label and your record deal and the house and the…” It’s hard to breathe. “And I know it isn’t a good time to even… what with your career taking off and you being away so often but I just… I know I should be happy. I… I should be satisfied with my lot because it’s more than most people could dream of having. But I’m not quite there anymore. There’s something… something more I need.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Beca’s eyes are glassy when Chloe finally looks at her. It takes her by surprise.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Bec?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Are you breaking up with me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe’s heart shatters, pieces of it thundering down, lower and lower, sinking into her still-churning gut. She reaches out across the table for Beca’s hand, but Beca pulls away.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Tell me first.” She holds her hand hostage, looking cautiously across at Chloe, who can’t decide whether to laugh or cry.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Never.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>With a loud sigh, Beca lets Chloe take her hand. Chloe holds it gently and shakes her head. “I’m not… God, Bec, I’m happy. So happy. I just… I feel guilty because I want more. I…” A sharp breath in and she finally says it, finally puts the words out into the universe, prepared for whatever might come next. “I think I want a baby.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The silence that follows is far from reassuring. Chloe’s eyes seem to dart between Beca and the door until she spots her girlfriend’s wry smile. “Why…” Beca turns her head to see what Chloe is staring at. When she realises, she shakes her head. “Chloe, I’m not about to go anywhere. Even if I wanted to,” she holds out her hand, “which I don’t- at all- I couldn’t. In fact, I’m starting wonder if it was all part of your cunning plan. Feed me up so that I literally can’t move just in case I do the old BM panic-and-run routine?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe’s teeth scrape over her lip. She’s smiling slightly, but Beca still hasn’t said much on the subject. Chloe needs her to. She needs more than humour right now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I didn’t want to scare you off. I… I’ve been worried about it because we’ve never really had much of a conversation about kids and because your career is just getting exciting and I don’t want to jeopardise any of that but it’s like this <em>need</em> has hit me and I can’t… I can’t shake it.” The anxiety is still very much manning the control panel inside Chloe’s head. She leans back slightly and pushes her hair behind her ear. “If you need space or, I don’t know, want to head for the hills, I won’t stop you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There’s the sound of a chair scraping against the floor and Chloe knows she can’t bear to see what comes next. She slams her eyes closed and braces herself for the sound of the door opening.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Look at me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When she opens her eyes, Beca is crouched in front of her, peeling her hands from the table and holding them firm.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I know I have a… a reputation when it comes to running when things get too much. I know, even though we’ve had all this time together, that sometimes I make mistakes and do the wrong thing. But, Chloe, I love you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I love you too.” It’s a reflex, but one laced with meaning.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And when you love someone, when you actually love them with your whole heart, you don’t leave them. That’s the biggest thing I learned as a kid. It’s why I come back to you. Why I carry a piece of you wherever I go.” Beca’s hands loosen slightly and she stands, pulling Chloe up with her. “Loving someone means never leaving them. So, sorry Chloe, but you’re stuck with me. Forever. You and me and…. And our family. I’ll speak to Theo once we’ve got it figured out a little better. I’ll talk to him about pulling back on the appearances and I’ll make sure I can be here more. You’re not going through this alone. I want to be a part of every moment and if that means that work takes a back seat, then that’s what happens. Work is for now, baby. This? Us? It’s forever.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The words seem to push the pieces of Chloe’s heart back into her chest. She feels whole. Alive.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Serious? You… you want this? I’m not pushing you into anything you…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It isn’t often that Beca leaves her speechless, but cutting her off with a kiss is a surefire way to make it happen.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When they pull apart, foreheads still resting together, Beca looks deep into her eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I know sometimes I make the wrong choice and I know sometimes I get caught up in work, but I never lose sight of what’s important.” Chloe can feel their connection in the way their eyes seem magnetically drawn together. “It’s you. I love you. Idiot.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The word makes Chloe smile. It takes her back several years, to a kiss she knew would be her last ever first. “I love you too.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There’s a desire, a want to push forward and claim Beca’s soft lips. A hand dances over her waist, beginning to pull her in, but then Beca breaks with a loud laugh and her hand is pulled from Chloe’s skin to land on her stomach.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Baby I’m so full.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Me too.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>By the time they reach the couch, the last of the wine emptied into two pitiful measures, their eyes are growing heavy.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe sits down and pulls Beca into her, smiling at the feeling of having her in her arms. Of the safety and security of knowing she is simply <em>there.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Are you relieved I didn’t freak out?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe nods. She forgets, sometimes, just how well Beca knows her after so many years.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Just a little. I’m excited, too. To, you know, make a baby with you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Mhmm,” Beca’s eyes are beginning to close, the wine and the dinner taking its toll, “well, as much as I’d love to try and make one the old fashioned way I’m, like, thanksgiving dinner tired.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, maybe we’ll just have to try tomorrow. See if we can’t beat biology.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Beca smacks her lips, leaning into Chloe in a way that tells her she’s moments from falling asleep. “Tomorrow sounds good.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It does, Chloe thinks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tomorrow sounds amazing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And so does every day after that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <b>Saturday</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It is, and always has been, human instinct to respond to fear in one of three ways: fight, flight or freeze.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As much as she likes people to think she’s tough and aggressive, Beca Mitchell has always subscribed to the ‘flight’ method. Running away has, since Billy Thompson threatened to cut off her pigtails in the second grade, been a fairly effective coping mechanism. It’s gotten Beca out of some sticky situations and she’s certain that being small enough to slip in and out of places undetected will always be useful.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It is the absence of the instinct in the presence of all of the signs of fear that first clued Beca in to the idea that there might be something different- special, even- about the enthusiastic redhead with the giant blue eyes. Despite the clammy palms and the lurching stomach and the pounding in her chest, the desire to turn and flee from Chloe Beale simply never arrived. Instead, Beca found herself drawn in, closer and closer, until the idea of life without the sound of Taylor Swift songs or the scent of raspberry tea was enough to make her want to cry. Until the need to be with her became just as important as food and shelter. Until she found herself sitting down on Chloe’s bed and asking her, hands nervously clasped in her lap, how she would feel about sharing an apartment in New York.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Until now. Until Beca finds herself finally understanding <em>why</em> she can’t- and never has been able to- walk away from this one person. This one, special, unexpected person who has turned her life on its head and has transformed it into something entirely unlike the future she had imagined for herself. It surprises her, still, just how easily Chloe managed to push through her layers in order to see the real her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It surprises her even more that Chloe, the person who she trusts and who knows more about her than anyone else in the world, continues to stay.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That she continues to choose Beca.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Beca thinks she’s starting to understand why.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>The same thundering in her chest, the same clammy palms and slight tremor in her body that Beca usually associates with ‘get the fuck out of here’ seem to wash over her on an almost daily basis.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It begins in the early morning, when- somehow- she wakes to find Chloe’s arm draped across her toned stomach, her t-shirt ruched up to expose her skin. It isn’t the sensation of being held, but the way Chloe’s fingers seem to gently dance over her as if playing a tune, that is different. It’s the way that Beca is suddenly aware that she <em>likes</em> this. That she wants <em>more</em> of this. More of Chloe. The last thing she wants to is run away. If she moves, Chloe will stop. It’s as simple as that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The feeling, specifically the thundering in her chest, seems to come on suddenly when Chloe comes back from her morning run and stretches out in the square of space between the couch and the kitchen. Her cheeks are flushed, her toned arms covered with a light sheen of sweat. The t-shirt she had been wearing over her sports bra when she left is tucked into the waistband of her <em>extremely flattering</em> leggings and Beca’s heart pulses like she’s the one who has just finished a 10k.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It happens more and more as the days go on and it becomes impossible to ignore. In fact, Beca refuses to let herself. Instead, she simply basks in the sensation that Chloe’s presence offers. Because she likes it. Because she wants it. Because she wants <em>more</em>. Her skin prickles, her senses going into overdrive, when Chloe catches her staring and simply smiles back, allowing Beca to lose herself in ocean orbs.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Chloe reaches out and takes her hand, Beca knows her palms are clammy. They shouldn’t be. It’s never exactly warm in their apartment, especially at night. It’s one of the many excuses Beca has made in her head as to why they always seem to end up sat so close to one another.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There’s a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She reaches out to tuck it back, seeing out of the corner of her eye just how much her hands are shaking. Chloe notices and her eyes narrow slightly. It’s playful, but there is truth- too much truth- to the words she chooses.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do I scare you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s a question Chloe has asked before.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Never before has Beca given an answer quite so honest.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her laugh gives away her nerves.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Dude, you fucking <em>terrify </em>me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe’s face suddenly seems to show every emotion Beca feels. Her eyes are wide, her mouth half-open. It’s familiar. It’s fear.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There is space between them. Space that hadn’t been there before. Space that Beca would like to close.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She had always anticipated that, if anyone was going to run away, it would be her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She had never factored in that Chloe could be the one to take flight.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Bec, I never meant to scare you. I… I’m sorry, I…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It is only when Beca notices the tears glittering in Chloe’s eyes that she realises that the redhead is probably just as baffled by the fact that she hasn’t run as she is.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The only thing left to do is to say it out loud.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s one of the most terrifying things Beca has ever done.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She isn’t fearless, not by any means, but she can’t run.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Not when she’s fairly certain, by now, that the woman sat only inches away from her is the person she is meant to spend the rest of her life with.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You terrify me because I love you.” Beca can’t help but finish her sentence with a soft “idiot”. She’s fairly certain she means it more for herself than for Chloe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I love you too.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The words come after a few seconds.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s the biggest reason Beca’s ever had to stick around.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She’s not going anywhere without Chloe Beale.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Not as long as she can help it.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Being alone always felt safe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Distance, physical and emotional, acted like a moat, surrounding the walls Beca had built up. Being alone, being self-sufficient and never needing anyone for anything, meant that it would never hurt as much when people left as it did when her dad had shut the door behind him for the final time, leaving Beca and her mom to pick up the pieces of the family portrait he had shattered.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Beca had never needed anyone. Not really. She had never relied on other people for anything, mostly because there seemed- to her- to be more costs than benefits.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It had never occurred to Beca before that she could <em>want</em> someone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Until Chloe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Now, as she stares up at the ceiling with her head on her pillow and the tingle of Chloe’s goodnight kiss still lingering on her lips, Beca wonders if she might grow to <em>need</em> this.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She wonders if that’s why she has always stayed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Why she’s never gone anywhere.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Why she’s never going to.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Bec?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe’s voice dances through the darkness. It’s quiet, gravelly from the promise of sleep that has- so far- not claimed either of them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The touch of Chloe’s fingers against her arm is delicate. So delicate and tender that she wonders if it’s unintentional. Beca can't decide whether to pull away or lean in closer. It takes a moment for her to make a choice; for her to reach down under the covers and wrap her fingers through Chloe’s and hold her hand firmly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>An anchor.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A weight.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A promise.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re here.” Chloe’s words land with a soft sigh. “I’m nervous to go to sleep. I… I don’t know why but I keep thinking I’m going to wake up and it will all be a dream.” The thumb Beca uses to caress over Chloe’s knuckles is a reassurance. A reminder of just how <em>real </em>this whole thing is. “But you’re here. You’re here and you’re… you love me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I do.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And you’re… you’re alright?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Beca knows she has a track record for these things. She has famously always been poor with big events and big feelings. She has never been a great communicator, not with her words at least, and Chloe has been on the receiving end of her actions more times than anyone else.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Look at me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe’s blue eyes seem deeper in the darkness. It takes all of Beca’s strength not to let herself get lost in them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m not going to run. Not from this. Not from you. I… I know I said you scare me and, well, it’s true, but…” the thundering in her chest is back. “Man, Chloe. I mean, you’re just… you’re everything to me. I’ve never felt like this about anyone. You’re the most special thing I have.” Arms wrap around her and Beca buries her head in Chloe’s neck. “It’s easier to be me when I’m with you. That’s how I know I love you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe doesn’t answer with words.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her eyes simply close as she presses her lips firmly against Beca’s.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She knows, in that moment, that this is it. Whatever life throws at them, Beca vows she’s done with running.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Instead, she decides she’ll walk. Hand in hand with Chloe. Straight into whatever the future may hold.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <b>Sunday</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Chloe opens her eyes, three things occur to her in quick succession. Firstly, she registers that there is light pouring through the window. Too much light for it to be early morning. Second, she realises that there is nobody else in her bed. Beca’s side is cold to the touch. The third thing that occurs to Chloe is that it is quiet.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It is the absence of noise, the unusual, unsettling feeling that comes along with it, that pulls her to her feet.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Bec?” Chloe pads gently along the wooden floors of the hallway. “Baby?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When no reply comes, Chloe’s mind does its usual trick and flips the switch from ‘comfortable’ to ‘disaster awaits’. As usual, there is no in-between, no grey. Her chest begins to tighten, her breaths shallowing, as a flip-book begins to flutter page by page, image by image, in her head.It moves from Beca’s epic walk out in her freshman year, through to the fight at the retreat, the long-distance calls from New York to LA, the cancelled flights and last-minute bookings. The suitcase being pulled through the door. The door closing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>In that moment, Chloe simply can’t rationalise with herself. She can’t convince herself that the door will ever open again. She can’t convince herself that this isn’t the time she has been anticipating in the back of her mind. The time when Beca finally ups and runs.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She wouldn’t blame her. Things haven’t been easy. It’s been all late nights and early mornings and spinning plates on flimsy plastic straws. Balance is not something that exists in their lives right now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Neither is sleep.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Except, miraculously, Chloe is refreshed. Refreshed and awake and… and alone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The first thing she hears is a small squeak.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s followed by gentle shuffling.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Maybe, Chloe realises, she isn’t alone as she first thought.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Slowly, as she walks towards the noise, her anxiety dissipates back, folding smaller and smaller until she can push it back into the box it escaped from.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>By the time she opens the door, just a crack, it is gone. Replaced by nothing but love for what she sees.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Replaced by nothing but comfort for every word she hears.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Okay, maybe not <em>every</em> word.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“So, like, I don’t know if you know this, but if you put a frog in boiling water right away, the little guy will just hop right out of there. I mean, I have enough trouble getting into the bath tub if the water’s too hot, so I can only imagine how I’d react if someone tried to drop me into a pan covered in steam and shi- stuff.” Chloe shakes her head. She isn’t certain that Beca has seen her. She kind of hopes she doesn’t. She’s intrigued. “Anyway, if you put a frog in a pot with cold water and slowly heat it up, the frog doesn’t realise it’s burning up until it’s basically already sat in a stew.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There’s something so strange about watching Beca Mitchell, <em>the </em>Beca Mitchell- music producer, DJ, recording artist, Grammy nominee, chatting away in her sweatpants with a pair of thick-rimmed black glasses perched on her nose. Maybe it’s the juxtaposition, Chloe thinks, between the woman who can get an entire club looking her way when the beat drops, the woman whose last record hit the Billboard top 10 within two days, and this; that self-same woman leaning back in a nursing chair with a muslin cloth draped over her shoulder, talking about <em>frogs</em> to their four-week-old daughter.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sunday Ramone Mitchell (Chloe had insisted on her having Beca’s last name) was perfect. She was everything Chloe had hoped she would be and more. Being a mother had been a goal for most of her life and holding, feeding, changing, bathing her own daughter- the daughter she had carried and birthed- had filled her with the kind of love and devotion she had only ever read about before. Still, Chloe had been prepared for that side of motherhood. She had been prepared for night feeds and diaper changes and the endless laundry and the limitless love. She had not, however, been prepared for the way watching Beca hold their baby would make her feel.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It had been incredible to watch them develop their own little bond right from the very first time Beca held her and Sunday's little blue eyes had locked onto hers. Beca was completely in love with her and it warmed Chloe's soul to watch the way she would sneak up to the nursery to check on their baby, to just sit and watch and be close to her. Chloe had thought Beca was probably singing to her. Or maybe playing music or mixing new tracks.</p>
<p>Apparently, she had been wrong.</p>
<p><br/>Apparently Beca was teaching their month-old, 8-pound baby how to boil a frog.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Listen, it’s not about the frogs, alright.” Chloe can’t help but shake her head. Sunday doesn’t even know what a frog <em>is. </em>Frankly, Chloe’s fairly certain, if it doesn’t light up, sing songs or come out of a boob, Sunday doesn’t care.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clearly, though, Beca does.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s just… it’s hard to explain how scary it feels to love someone this much. I think, honestly, if I’d known back then how I would feel, if it had hit me all at once, I’d have run. It’s overwhelming to hold all of this inside you for one person. Or, well, two people now. It’s hard because, suddenly, something other than yourself matters. Something <em>more</em> matters. And that’s what love is.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tears prick at the corners of Chloe’s eyes.</p>
<p><br/>If Beca notices, she’ll blame the hormones.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Love means never leaving, alright? And that’s the promise I made to your mommy and it’s the promise I’m making to you, too, baby girl. I have a super cool job and it means you can have loads of birthday presents and we can take you to Disneyland whenever you want and probably you’ll end up with a pony at some stage because I know what your mom is like. But it also means I have to go away sometimes and, well, because you’re so teeny tiny, I can’t bring you with me. As much as I’d like to. So you and your mommy have to stay here while Mama goes away to play her music.” Beca lifts Sunday up, supporting her head as she holds her to her shoulder and rubs her back. “But, here’s the important thing, okay? I know what it’s like when people who love you leave you behind. And I will never do that to you. Ever. Even if things are tough, I’ll always come back. Always.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe can’t bear it anymore.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Turning on the ball of her foot, she walks as fast as she can back to their bedroom.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>///</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Beca must have noticed the noise.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe realises how quickly she must have moved when she hears Beca walking after her. She pushes the door open, Sunday still up against her chest, and stares wide-eyed in Chloe’s direction.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Did I scare you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Beca has never before been the one to ask.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe’s first reaction is to laugh.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her second is to shrug and say “dude, you <em>terrify</em> me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her third is to shake her head and stand up straight, to take a step forwards and press a kiss to Sunday’s head before doing the same to Beca’s cheek.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No. I… I wasn’t running away. I… I just…” Chloe’s hands are shaking. She can feel them. Taking a breath, she looks up into Beca’s deep blue eyes and lets her feelings do the talking. “I heard everything you said to Sunday. All the stuff about having something more. Something that matters. I… I heard what you said about love and about not leaving and about making promises and, Bec… I can’t go another day without asking.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Getting down on one knee four weeks after giving birth isn’t worth it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Instead, Chloe simply takes a step back and opens the box she had retrieved from her bedside table.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Marry me, Beca?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>For the first time, there is no fear lingering in Chloe’s mind. When she looks at Beca, watches the way she cradles their child as her eyes fill with tears and she nods her head, she knows there is no room for doubt.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>No room for anything but love.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There is a moment where Chloe pictures the small alt-girl from the quad. The girl from the showers. The girl who had been certain her future was in LA. In music.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was, Chloe thinks. It <em>is. </em>And it was worth waiting for.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was worth taking the long way around.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Slowly, carefully, Chloe slips the delicate ring onto Beca’s finger and pulls her in close for a long kiss.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I love you so much.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There is so much gravity, so much love, in the words Beca whispers. The way she holds out her hand to inspect the ring whilst the other cradles their baby, Chloe can’t help but imagine that the whole thing should feel like the end of something, the closure of a part of their story.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It doesn’t.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It feels strangely like the beginning.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
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